


The Hero Who Gives Crooks The Shaft

by John_Q_Sample



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Superheroes, Villains, families
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-07 21:12:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19093234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Q_Sample/pseuds/John_Q_Sample
Summary: My friend informed me that out of context this title sounds somewhat inappropriate but it's Quiverwing Quack's catchphrase (and I didn't feel like coming up with another one), so no funny business, y'all.The Quiverwing Quack is finally getting into crime-fighting - solo! - when she encounters a new hero, one who comes from another town and has a vengeance against Negaduck specifically. She's also a major Darkwing Duck fan.





	1. Chapter 1

Negaduck is on one of his rampages again; the Quiverwing Quack has been in the business long enough to know the patterns. He’ll show up with a crime, start doing a bunch of them until one of the heroes stops him, and then he’ll disappear for a random amount of time.

Quiverwing won’t miss this opportunity to catch him. Sure, he’s her dad’s arch nemesis, but it’s better than letting him get away with his various crimes.

Today it’s a bank robbery, plain and simple. Except for the hostages he threatened with a chainsaw. Still, pretty vanilla for him.

But now he’s leading her on a massive chase throughout the city. It’s getting dark outside, and the back alleys are hard to navigate, even for someone who grew up in this city. Quiverwing has to catch up with Negaduck before he gets to his version of the Ratcatcher (why’s he always copying Darkwing?), or else she won’t be able to find him at all.

Negaduck glances back at her and grins, showing fangs. He sprints forward—when did he get so fast?—and turns a corner. Quiverwing skids after him.

And he’s cornered in an alley.

Rather than panic, triumph flickers in his eyes. He launches himself at Quiverwing, and she’s on the ground.

Hissing with pain, she kicks him in the stomach, then throws him off of her as she scrambles to her feet. She nocks an arrow and aims it at him.

“Bows and arrows don’t really work in close range,” Negaduck points out.

Quiverwing arches an eyebrow. “Still hurts when it hits you.”

She lets the arrow loose, and Negaduck dodges. He stands up and looks back, finding his hat pinned to the wall.

“Or not...”

He swings a punch at her. She ducks and hits him in the stomach, causing him to stumble backwards. He comes back more angrily and throws her onto the sidewalk. He pins her down with an arm across her neck, causing her to reflexively gasp out in panic. She grips his arm tightly, first hoping to pull him off, then hoping to cut off the circulation in his arm.

That’s when blue smoke starts to spread throughout the alleyway.

Eyes wide, Negaduck glances around the alley. His grip loosens, and Quiverwing pushes his arm off.

“I am the terror that flaps in the night,” announces a voice that most definitely does  _ not _ belong to Darkwing Duck. “I am the winged scourge that pecks at your nightmares!...I am... _ the Gallant Gosling _ !”

“Great,  _ another _ masked freak!”

As the smoke clears, Quiverwing scrambles to her feet and fires an arrow at Negaduck. This pins his cape to the wall, and the pulls against it, causing himself to choke.

Quiverwing turns and faces the form of the Gallant Gosling. She’s like Darkwing in more than her entrance: she has a suit resembling his as well. She’s taller, with yellow feathers and red hair in ringlets, and that’s really the only difference.

Growing more irritable, Negaduck lurches forward, ripping another tear in his cape but freeing him from the arrow. The Gosling jumps in front of Quiverwing and fires a gas canister at him. When it goes off, she sprints forward and catches him.

“I would’ve just let him hit the ground,” Quiverwing says, waving the smoke away from the face.

“I just can’t do that,” the Gosling murmurs.

There’s something about her voice. It’s familiar, but in a  _ wrong _ way, like the way Negaduck sounds like her father. Quiverwing can’t place it.

“Could you please help me tie him up?” the Gosling asks.

Quiverwing snaps out of it and sets to work at binding his arms together behind his back. Quiverwing steals more than a few suspicious glances at the other hero.

“Is there a police station near here?” the Gosling asks.

“Huh? Oh, right, it’s just down the street.”

“I guess we should drop him there.”

Quiverwing shrugs and hauls Negaduck up. He’s significantly shorter than her—again, like her dad, around the same height—and it makes it easy to carry him. The Gosling still insists on helping, taking his arm on the other side and ensuring he isn’t simply being dragged to the building. They drop him off at the front, and the Gosling starts to run off.

Quiverwing follows her. “So, are you a new hero?”

“You could say that,” the Gosling says, not slowing down. “I don’t meant to step on anyone’s toes. I’m from another town, and I’m here to stop Negaduck.”

“Him specifically? He’s horrible, but  _ why _ ?”

“Oh...I’ve witnessed some of the things he’s done, firsthand. I just want to stop him from doing these things. For good, hopefully, but that may be asking for too much.”

Quiverwing turns and squints at the other hero, but she’s already running off. Quiverwing chases after her, only to be met with the same puff of blue smoke from earlier. With an irritated frown, Quiverwing turns to the nearest alleyway, checks for witnesses, and changes out of her costume.

Gosalyn walks out with a backpack slung over her shoulder, and she starts to head back towards Avian Way. She notes how dark it is and realizes that Drake wouldn’t be too happy to find out that she’s been out, especially for crime-fighting.

When she gets home, she’ll have to come up with a genuinely good excuse, so they’ll overlook how late it is. And she can’t keep using the “studying with Honker” excuse over summer break, especially since her final grades from the past year don’t nearly reflect how often the excuse had been used. Drake already suspects it; she’ll have to come up with something else.

Once on Avian Way, Gosalyn pauses to view her house before planning a way inside. The lights are all off, meaning everyone is probably asleep. She might be able to slip in without them noticing, or at best she could just go in through the front door and pretend she didn’t notice how late it was. That’d be less suspicious than going in through the back or trying to break in through her bedroom window.

As she crosses through the hallway towards the staircase, she hears her father saying, “Gosalyn Mallard.”

Flinching, she turns and faces the living room, where Drake is lying across the couch. Both legs, one in a cast and one in a brace, are propped up on the pillows, and reruns of  _ Pelican’s Island _ are playing on the television.

Launchpad must have left him here rather than in his bedroom.

“Hey, Dad,” Gosalyn says as she walks into the living room with an air of casualness she doesn’t genuinely feel.

“I thought you were asleep in your room,” he points out, suspicion tinging his tone. He can't cross his arms, with one in a cast  _and_ a sling, so he simply folds his uninjured arm across his chest as he glares. “That  _ is _ what you said you’d be doing when the Muddlefoots picked you up from the hospital.”

“No, I was...playing hockey,” she says, coming up with the excuse as she says it. “With some of the people on the Duckburg team. For practice, you know. It ran a little late, and it took some time to get home.”

“Gosalyn, I used to sneak out of my parents’ house to fight crime before I moved out on my own. I know exactly what kind of excuses are used, and that sounds just like one of them."

The game is up; Gosalyn twists her beak with irritation. Then, after a few seconds, she relaxes and says, “I couldn’t just let Negaduck rob a bank and get away with it.”

Drake jolts upright, seized with panic. “Negaduck?!”

Gosalyn rushes forward to relax him and gently pushes him back onto the pillow. “It’s okay, Dad! He didn’t hurt me!”

“ _ Negaduck _ ,” he repeats, overcome with worry. “I thought I told you that you shouldn’t be fighting him on your own. It’s too dangerous!”

“Crime-fighting  _ is _ dangerous. It’s in your catchphrase!”

“Don’t you use my catchphrase against me, young lady,” Drake growls. “You know the kinds of things Negaduck  _ does _ to people, sweetie. And if he hurt you, I don’t know what I’d do...”

Drake wouldn’t ever be able to forgive himself, and he certainly wouldn’t even try to forgive Negaduck. The potential future of the Darkwarrior Duck still looms in the back of Gosalyn’s mind, even years after the “bad future” event. But she won’t let it scare her, not now.

With a frown and a slight glare disguising her concern, Gosalyn heads over to the side of the couch and props herself on the arm closest to Drake's head.

She forces herself to speak civilly, "Negaduck is doing another one of his crime sprees, and if nobody stops him, he'll just keep doing  _worse_ things. He already sent you to the hospital! What do you think he'd do if he found out you couldn't actually fight him?"

Drake winces; it  _ is _ a concern that has crossed his mind more than a few times since the motorcycle crash that landed him in this position in the first place. So far, it seems as if Negaduck has no knowledge of his enemy’s current position, but that is a fragile state not promised to last for long.

Seeing that he’s still unconvinced, Gosalyn adds, “Would you rather me call Gizmoduck and ask him to help out?”

“ _ Gizmoduck _ ?” Drake cries out. “You would never!”

“It’s either me or Gizmoduck, or letting Negaduck do whatever he wants. And I know you wouldn’t let that happen.”

“But  _ Gizmoduck _ ...Wouldn’t he be busy over at Duckburg?”

“Maybe, maybe not. ‘Sides, he thinks you’re friends, so he’d be okay helping out.”

Drake sinks down into the pillow on the couch. “You’re not going to give this up, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“I’d prefer if you  _ told me _ you were going out to fight crimes rather than sneaking out,” Drake says. “And, maybe, call me sometimes to check in? Just to be sure. Or you can take Launchpad and—”

“Launchpad is busy helping you. And I know how to handle myself,” Gosalyn points out. And she likes working alone, or with Honker, but crime-fighting always gives him panic attacks.

“I know, Gos...”

Gosalyn grins. Leaning forward, she kisses his cheek. “Thanks, Dad! Need help getting back to your room?”

“I...no, just pass me my crutch.”

With a broken leg, a sprained ankle, and a broken elbow, it’s pretty difficult for him to maneuver himself normally around the house, especially given that there are two floors and a basement. But this isn’t his first time being so injured, and he’s already familiar with how to use his crutch one-armed.

Gosalyn hands it over and hangs around nearby as Drake pulls himself up to his feet. Then she follows him as he hobbles up the stairs to his room.

She doesn’t want to tell him about the Gallant Gosling just yet. First, he’d get  _ super _ jealous, like he did when Gizmoduck first showed up. Especially if she becomes popular. Second, he already has enough stuff to worry about right now. And third, Gosalyn wants to see what she can find out about this new hero before bringing it up to her father; it just wouldn’t do to drop a name and not provide any information, even if she doesn't have any information to give.

Then he’d just go into an investigative frenzy, and he’s  _ supposed _ to be resting.

“Goodnight, Gosalyn,” Drake says as he enters his room. “And when I say goodnight I mean actually  _ sleeping _ ?”

“I know, Dad. ‘Night.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gosalyn wakes up and finds the Muddlefoots at her house.

Gosalyn wakes with a jolt. She’s flailing, struggling to catch her breath. Once she calms down, and the ringing in her ears stops, she can hear the sound of chatter downstairs. And it doesn’t sound like her parents.

She’s still rattled from her nightmare, so she waits in bed for a few seconds. Goes through it in her mind. Of course the nightmare had to be centered around the Darkwarrior Duck, but then her grandfather made it into the picture...

She’s just stressed from the previous night, is all. Pushing past her irritating emotions, she checks her alarm clock, which reveals that it’s about ten in the morning. The unfamiliar voices from downstairs persist.

Confusedly, she stumbles out of her bed and down the staircase. She reaches the bottom step when Binkie Muddlefoot walks over towards her.

“My, Gosalyn, you look like you got good sleep last night,” Binkie says.

Gosalyn blinks.

“Your hair is sticking straight up! It looks just like Tanker’s in the morning. Ooh, you should really try growing it out again. Those pigtails you used to wear were so cute!”

Gosalyn rubs her eyes with a fist and yawns. “What’s going on?”

Drake heads towards the staircase and leans heavily against his crutch. “The _Muddlefoots_ ,” he hisses out disdainfully, “have _graciously_ offered to stay and make brunch.”

“Uh-huh.”

“That reminds me, dear. I was just about to call you down to ask how you like your eggs.”

“Scrambled, I guess.”

With a nod, Binkie heads back to the kitchen.

Gosalyn turns towards her father. “The Muddlefoots, huh?”

“Put some clothes on.”

She heads back upstairs and changes quickly into some clothes. She doesn’t bother brushing her hair, but she does pat it down with her hands before going back to the living room. She finds Drake sitting on the couch again and takes a sip of his coffee.

“Hey,” he snaps.

“You didn’t invite them,” Gosalyn whispers, handing the mug back.

“And neither did Launchpad.” Drake tilts his head back and drinks down some coffee as if it’s whiskey. “But here they are.”

Gosalyn doesn’t dislike the Muddlefoots as much as her father does (to say nothing of her best friend Honker), but she does find it irritating that they simply barge in as they do. Still, this most recent visit comes with free food, so she won’t complain too much.

Launchpad strolls into the living room. “Morning, Gos. Morning, Drake.”

Drake sighs, sinking down into the couch. “Morning, LP.”

Gosalyn takes another sip of his coffee—causing another protest—before she enters the kitchen, which is already pretty packed. Finding Honker there, she makes a beeline towards her friend.

“Hey, Honk-man, I need to—you know, show you my bicycle.”

Binkie looks up. “Couldn’t it wait until after—”

“It’ll be really quick. Thanks, Mrs. Muddlefoot,” Gosalyn says, practically tugging Honker out into the garage.

“Did something happen?” he whispers.

Gosalyn presses a pointer finger to her beak and climbs into the backseat of Drake’s station wagon. Honker follows and closes the door after himself.

“Um, this would look _very_ suspicious to anyone else,” Honker murmurs.

“Yeah but no one’s going to overhear us. I went crime-fighting last night. Negaduck robbed a bank, you know.”

“That was on the news,” Honker comments.

“What did they say?”

“Uh...just that Negaduck tried to rob a bank but got arrested because someone, um, left him at the police station.”

Gosalyn nods. “That makes sense. Well, there’s another superhero in town. Her name’s the Gallant Gosling, and I think she’s meant to be, like, Darkwing Duck’s biggest fan. Well, after Launchpad. But she dresses up like him and talks like him and everything. And she’s here specifically to fight Negaduck.”

Honker frowns. “That’s weird.”

“Hey, he’s where the Quiverwing Quack made her debut.”

“Still,” Honker murmurs. “Do you think she’s doing it because he’s Darkwing’s arch nemesis?”

“If that’s the case, couldn’t she just go with the Fearsome Four? Dad fights them more often now.”

Again, Honker considers it. After a few moments, he counters with, “The last person your dad fought before crashing was Negaduck, right?”

“Right, but nobody knows about that.”

“Well, maybe she found out? And she’s trying to, um, help him, or...something.”

Gosalyn taps her chin. “Then maybe it’s somebody we know, or somebody Dad knows. I _did_ think she sounded familiar, and that wasn’t just because she was talking like Dad.”

“Do you think you’ll see her again?” Honker asks.

“If she’s still fighting Negaduck, then for sure. I convinced Dad to let me keep fighting him. Well, even if he didn’t agree, I would have still done it,” Gosalyn comments, crossing her arms. “I don’t know why he gets so freaked out about it.”

“He’s just worried.”

“Still,” Gosalyn huffs.

Launchpad pokes his head through the garage door. Seeing that they’re in the car, he walks over and opens the backseat.

“This isn’t your bicycle,” Launchpad comments.

“I know,” Gosalyn says. “It’s just more soundproof talking in Dad’s car than in the garage.”

“I told DW he should keep it locked when he has it in the garage...Anyway, the Muddlefoots are starting to wonder where you were. I, uh, told them you broke something on your bike and were getting Honker to help.”

“Thanks, Launchpad.”

Gosalyn and Honker step out of the car and follow Launchpad into the house.

“They’re they are!” Herb exclaims excitedly as they enter the room.

“Yeah, thanks for helping with my bike, Honk,” Gosalyn comments absentmindedly as she moves to the empty seat near her dad.

Tanker scoffs, not believing the story. He still doesn’t know about the Quiverwing Quack, and Gosalyn definitely wants to keep it that way, but his “explanation” for their sometimes strange behavior often falls to the story that Gosalyn and Honker are secretly dating.

Breakfast is the stereotypical eggs, bacon, toast, various fruits (that _definitely_ did not come from their house). Drake denies Gosalyn’s request for some more coffee; Binkie pours her some anyway; then she gets a headache from the caffeine.

“Well, Drake, we just feel so awful that you had that crash,” Binkie says. “Motorcycles are so dangerous, without seatbelts. I’m just glad you were wearing a helmet.”

“Even if I wanted to, Gosalyn wouldn’t let me ride without one,” Drake comments, taking a sip of coffee. “You really... _didn’t_ have to do all this.”

“Oh, we just felt so bad that we couldn’t get the chance to visit you while you were in the hospital. After we picked Gosalyn up and brought her home, we came back, and then visiting hours were all over!”

“Muh-huh.”

The conversations go like this throughout the entire breakfast. After eating, Gosalyn puts her plate and mug in the sink.

“Hey, Dad, I’m going to—play hockey with some of the people on the Duckburg team.”

It’s only after she says it that she realizes the reason it’s so easy to say is that she used it before. Drake sits up, eyes wide, beak open to blurt out an accusation about her going crime-fighting. Then he stops and peers at the guests.

Carefully, he responds, “Duckburg is a long drive from here. With the bus it would take about three hours.”

“Oh, they’re already in town. I should hang out with them before they have to go back home,” Gosalyn insists, hoping he interprets it as something like “You don’t have to worry about me”.

Which he doesn’t, naturally, but he grits his teeth in a mock smile and snaps back, “If you insist.”

Smiling, Gosalyn leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. She whispers, “I’ll be safe.”

He sighs and sinks back into his seat as Gosalyn rushes out of the house before he can come up with another argument.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me watching the muddlefoots: i mean they're not SO bad  
> me trying to write the muddlefoots: ah


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After ditching the fambly brunch, Gosalyn tries to see if she can find her new pal, who's actually hiding out behind a bakery.

Even without the Muddlefoots, Quiverwing couldn’t tell her father that she’s actually looking for the new superhero. She’ll have to bring it up to him tonight when she’s coming back home.

St. Canard is a big city, making it hard to find just one person among the crowds. Then again, this is a masked vigilante, and if she’s anything like the real Darkwing Duck, she’ll be easy to spot.

After a few seconds of roaming the city and accidentally scaring its citizens, Quiverwing spots a masked figure sprinting to the back of the building. Either a villain or the target of her search, so Quiverwing grabs her bow and follows.

Sure enough, the Gallant Gosling is there, peering at the back of a closed-down bakery. Slowly, Quiverwing puts her bow back on her shoulder and approaches the masked vigilante.

“What are you doing here?”

The Gosling jumps, stumbling back. She turns with wide eyes towards Quiverwing.

Quiverwing holds up her hands, showing she means no harm. “The name’s Quiverwing Quack. You remember me from yesterday? Er, night?”

The Gosling pauses, then, slowly, starts to nod. “I remember you. We fought Negaduck together, didn’t we?” Her voice wavers, and she says, “Well, that’s the thing. He just got out of jail this morning.”

“Already?!”

“I...was chasing him.”

Quiverwing points at the backdoor to the bakery. “And he went in here?”

“Yes. No. I mean—” The Gosling pushes a sigh through her beak. “Yes, he went in there.”

“Then we should go in and get him.”

“No, please don’t!”

“You want to get this guy caught, don’t you?”

The Gosling skids in front of the door and throws her arms out. “It’s dangerous! I wanted to go in by myself, but I’m not letting you get sucked in, too!”

“What is _wrong_ with—?!”

When the Quiverwing raises her hand, just gesturing around out of irritation, the Gosling flinches, pressing her back against the door and squeezing her eyes shut. Her hat falls off as she presses her head against the door.

Quiverwing has seen flinches like this before, usually from her friend Honker who is so used to being hit by Tanker that it just comes out of habit.

Embarrassed, Quiverwing takes a step back. “What’s in there that’s so dangerous?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Then you can at least tell me why you know so much about Negaduck,” Quiverwing counters, struggling to keep her tone polite. “It’s getting suspicious at this point.”

“Suspicious?” the Gosling repeats, turning and peering directly at Quiverwing.

“Yeah, I’d almost say you were working with him or something.”

“Oh, no, I’d never do that!”

Quiverwing arches an eyebrow and crosses her arms. A challenge to prove her wrong.

With a sigh, the Gosling steps forward and picks up her hat. As she puts it back on, she says, “Negaduck isn’t from this...this city. I grew up in the place he lives in. I still live there.”

“Okay,” Quiverwing says.

“...Okay?”

“I don’t know everyone in St. Canard, and I know he's not from some small town,” Quiverwing responds.

“Oh, right. Well...” The Gosling takes a few more steps away from the bakery. “At that—at our city, he runs everything. I can assure you, he’s not a fair ruler.”

“Couldn’t imagine.”

“My friends and I—really, they’re more like my family. We have a small superhero group, the Friendly Four. Er, Five, now.” She smiles nervously. “I’m new to all this. Anyway, we try to stop...Negaduck, but when that happens, he usually comes here.”

Quiverwing snaps her fingers. “That’s why he does crime sprees. He’s probably all mad about what’s going on in his hometown.”

“Right. And, obviously, that’s awful for you guys, but also, it makes it harder for us to fight him. That’s why I’m here. He likes messing with his arch nemesis, but if he has to deal with me, and you as well, it won't be as fun for him. I want to stop him from coming to the other—the other city, so we can deal with him more easily.”

Quiverwing nods. “That’s...actually a pretty good idea.” She glances at the bakery and gestures towards it with her thumb. “I’m guessing I’m never going to get an explanation on that thing, huh?”

“Would you believe it’s, um...where he hides his underground lair or something?”

“Yes,” Quiverwing responds, shrugging.

The Gosling frowns. “I’m sorry. I lied. That’s not it.”

“You’re weird. I’m going to look at the bakery, okay?”

“Please don’t!”

She stops and turns back towards the other hero with a poorly hidden irritated expression on his face. “If you’re so scared about what’s inside the building, you should come with me to protect me from whatever evil thing is in here. You clearly know more about it than me.”

Quiverwing kicks the door open, and the Gosling flinches. She watches with horror as the masked vigilante enters the bakery, then sprints in after her.

“Please be _careful_ ,” the Gosling exclaims, grabbing Quiverwing’s arm.

“Please tell me it’s ghosts. Ghosts are so cool.”

“There aren’t ghosts here. And...” The Gosling lets go and stands up straight. She looks around confusedly. “I don’t think Negaduck is here, either.”

“He must have slipped out while we were talking. If he went out the front, we definitely would have heard screaming, but maybe he went through the sides.”

“Maybe. You should check the windows. There’s something I want to see.”

Quiverwing waits as the Gosling approaches a backroom and enters it. After a few seconds, she heads in after the other hero.

The room is empty, save for a random pan lying on the floor, some spare papers, and a cardboard display cake collapsed against the wall. The Gosling approaches it and pokes at it.

“That’s weird,” Quiverwing says.

The Gosling jumps and puts a hand over her chest. “Please don’t sneak up on me. I don’t like it.”

“Sorry.” Quiverwing gestures towards the fake cake. “What’s up with that?”

“I guess they forgot to, um, take it out when they were shutting the place down?”

“They’re going to tear down this place soon. I guess they’ll get it then.”

The Gosling breathes out a forced sigh as she stares at the fake cake. “I guess they will.”

Quiverwing hesitates. “If this cake is really important to you, you could probably just steal it. They’re not going to be looking for it.”

The Gosling shakes her head and takes a step back. “I don’t want it. I don’t want that _thing_ anywhere near me.” She spits this out with venom Quiverwing has never seen before in the hero.

There’s something more to the Gosling. Yeah, St. Canard’s heroes are _supposed_ to be mysterious (oh, and then there’s Gizmoduck; that's a different thing entirely), but this is the first time Quiverwing has actually been mystified by one’s secrecy. Sure, she was wondering about Darkwing at first, but now she knows more about him than any St. Canardian reporter would care to hear about.

This not knowing thing is just _annoying_.

“I’m going to go check the windows, for real this time,” Quiverwing says as she starts to head out of the back room. “He’s probably long gone by now, but maybe we can find something that tells us where he went.”

“Good idea. I’ll go with you.”

“Or we could split up and— no, that’s what they do in horror movies,” Quiverwing corrects herself. “And then they always die. Better stick together, then.”

The Gosling puts a hand on her beak and follows Quiverwing through the bakery, which seems to grow more frightening at the mention of dying in a horror movie.

The windows are streaked with dust and accompanied by a few cobwebs and dead flies, but there’s no sign of anyone going through them. In fact, they look like they haven’t been touched in months, which is very likely given the state of the bakery.

The pair of masked vigilantes then head towards the front of the building, which like the back is empty save for a few random items left behind.

Quiverwing is startled from her investigation by the sound of the Gosling screaming, and then she is startled by the sudden appearance of Negaduck, who stands angrily at the doorway. His gaze slides between the two heroes.

“Oh, _great_ ,” he scoffs. “First Darkwing sends his loser of a daughter after me—” This he says with an irritated gesture towards the Gosling. Then he turns his gaze towards Quiverwing. “—and of course _you_ have to show up, too!”

Quiverwing exchanges a glance with the Gosling. Why does he think she’s Darkwing’s daughter? Second, why does he think or know Darkwing _has_ a daughter in the first place?

“Don’t tell me,” Negaduck sneers, “you’re best friends, and you’ve started working together.”

Negaduck runs towards them, and immediately Quiverwing fires an arrow, which he dodges. His eyes go wide as it whizzes past him.

“You need more practice,” he comments, turning on her.

“No!” the Gosling cries, sprinting forward towards him.

He grabs her, a hand on each arm, and shoves. She catches his arm before she can hit the ground and tugs, sending him tumbling down before her.

“Sorry!”

“Seriously? Don’t apologize!” Quiverwing exclaims.

Negaduck takes advantage of her distraction and kicks her in the stomach, causing her to wheeze.

“Oops.”

He jumps to his feet and hits her in the face, twice. She seems reluctant to fight back, deciding to simply flinch and put her arms up so he doesn’t cause too much damage.

This makes Quiverwing angry. She lets loose an arrow that burrows into his left shoulder. A hand flies to his injured shoulder, and he cries out in pain as he stumbles back.

The Gosling’s gaze flickers, and suddenly she darts forward and audibly socks Negaduck in the face.

“Okay, that felt good,” she admits with a nervous giggle.

With one hand on his shoulder and one on his cheek, he stares at her with injected eyes.

The Gosling’s eyes go wide, and she takes a step back.

So Quiverwing darts forward and shoves him.

“Get him into the backroom,” the Gosling whispers. “I have an idea.”

“Oh, you’re not trying this on me!” Negaduck snarls, and his attack is interrupted by a swift kick to the stomach.

As he stumbles, Quiverwing hits his knees. The Gosling darts around him and tugs on his cape, causing him to fall on his back. She keeps tugging.

“That’s one way to do it,” Quiverwing snickers, grabbing his ankles and lugging him along. “What are we doing in th—oh, okay.”

There is a bright green vortex coming from the fake cake. It glows and swirls around the room, seemingly filling it with a strange energy.

Negaduck complains as he hits the ground. Then he tugs at his cape with his good arm and scrambles to his feet.

The first one he attacks is the Gosling, but she dodges his hit and catches his arm. Quiverwing tries to fire an arrow, but she works too quickly, and her sloppy aim causes the arrow to go soaring way over his head.

Then it gets sucked into the cake and disappears.

“I _hate_ that!”

“Quiverwing!”

Quiverwing darts forward and helps restrain Negaduck. He can’t move his bad arm very well and hisses with pain whenever Quiverwing jostles it.

“Okay, let me just—” The Gosling breathes out. “Okay.”

Negaduck stops on Quiverwing’s foot. She loosens her grip for just a second, but he slips his arm out immediately, though he cries out with pain as it’s moved.

The Gosling tackles him, launching him into the cake, which flattens as he lands against it.

The Gosling tugs Quiverwing back as he’s sucked into the vortex, or whatever it is.

“ _What_ ,” Quiverwing shouts, “is _that_?!”

“Don’t get near it.”

As soon as she gives the warning, the cake disappears as if being sucked into the thing that sprung out of it. Just like that, both Negaduck and his escape route are gone.

“That’s horrible,” Quiverwing says. “This is horrible. I don’t know what’s going on. This is some wizard crap.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the Gosling says.

“Gee, great idea! This is totally normal!”

“Please don’t be angry with me.”

Her wording causes Quiverwing to stop. Then she notes how nervous the other hero is, probably disturbed by all the shouting. Damn, what sort of home life does she  _have_?

“I guess this means Negaduck isn’t coming back for a bit,” Quiverwing says, distracting her with a hopefully positive conversation.

“Oh, I hope.”

“How could he get out of there?”

“I’m sure he’d find a way, but...it may take some time.” The Gosling perks up. “That’s...a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, seriously. Dad has been freaking out about this whole thing.”

The Gosling frowns again and looks over at Quiverwing. “Who’s your father?”

“Darkwing Duck,” Quiverwing responds, proud of the answer she has to give.

Here, the Gosling freezes, staring at Quiverwing with an odd intensity. “So you’re...” Snapping out of it, she says, “Negaduck is his arch nemesis. Shouldn’t _he_ be fighting him?”

Quiverwing can’t remember the excuse Drake came up with, so she says, “Negaduck caused him to get into a motorcycle crash. I’ve been covering for him. Oh, and don’t spread this. We don’t want any villains, especially Negaduck, to find out.”

The Gosling puts a hand to her beak. “Oh, that’s horrible...One of the reasons I came here is to see if we could team up.”

Quiverwing narrows her eyes. She’s never been good at hiding her irritation. “Why?”

“Well, my family beat Negaduck once, but he’s beaten Negaduck several times.”

“So have I,” Quiverwing says, “and we work well together.”

The Gosling looks up with a smile. “We do, don’t we? If...If Negaduck comes back here, we should team up.”

Grinning, Quiverwing says, “That would be awesome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dawg i actually know jack shit about archery lol. like i watched brave three times and that's it!! binch!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negaduck is pissed.

Negaduck flies through the portal and lands roughly on the pavement. He skids on his good shoulder and spends a few seconds struggling to get up.

Stupid little—!

Forcing himself to relax, he sits up. After shooting an irritated glare at the arrow in his shoulder, he snaps it in half but doesn’t dare go farther, not wanting to risk getting this thing stuck in his arm for good.

At least he’s back in _his_ St. Canard. Sure, the portal closed on him, but he has a few more, one even in his office. He’ll be back.

And he’ll get that no-good, goody-two-shoes pair once and for all.

For now, he has to get this arrow safely out of his arm.

With a hand planted firmly on his injured left shoulder—still seeping with blood, though less than before, so that must be a good sign, _maybe_ —he stalks his way through the streets. No one would dare approach him on a good day, and now his menacing scowl is enough to turn even the bravest away from him.

The decaying urban scenery falls away as he approaches the suburbs, passing by a bent sign that reads “Avian Way”. House after grim house until he finally reaches his own, one that stands out not in its menacing nature but its sickening goodness. Gosalyn has been gardening while he was away, and probably _cleaning_ on the inside, too. Disgusting.

He kicks the door open—it’s still hanging on one hinge—and stomps into the living room.

“I _told_ you not to—” Launchpad stops, glancing at his injury. “Boss, what happened?”

“Where’s Gosalyn?”

Launchpad arches an eyebrow and sneers. “Never made you out to be a caring father figure. Arrow first, then Gosalyn. Sit down.”

Negaduck glares back, daring Launchpad to challenge him. Which he does, standing up to his full, almost hulking height. (It doesn't help that Negaduck himself is pretty short.)

“You really are a nuisance,” Negaduck hisses as he drops himself down onto the couch.

“Still here, ain’t I?”

Launchpad grabs a medical kit from the kitchen and plops it down on the worn coffee table. Frankly, the medical kit has seen better days, but they haven’t bothered to get out and grab a new one.

“I’m going to take the arrow out, and you’re probably going to whine about it—”

“I don’t whine.”

“—And then I am going to tell you to shut up, you big baby,” Launchpad presses on as he gets a firm grip on the splintered arrow and prepares to tug. He keeps talking, hoping to distract Negaduck from the no doubt painful task at hand. “Which is going to lead into an entire fight until you remember that you’d probably be dead without me here to help you. You know, on the occasions that you bother to turn up, which you never _do_ anymore.”

Negaduck cries out as the arrow is pulled from his arm. He claps a hand over his injury to stop the increased blood flow.

“Jacket, off,” Launchpad orders, snapping his fingers.

Negaduck begins unbuttoning his jacket. After he slips it off, he takes the sweater off, too, revealing a nasty injury on his arm, now soaked with blood.

“That’s gonna leave a mark,” Launchpad says. He begins to clean the wound. “I could be a nurse with all the times I had to fix you up.”

“You’d never be a good nurse. You have a horrible attitude.”

“I’ve healed gunshot wounds, stabbing wounds, slicing wounds, boxing wounds, punching wounds, chainsaw wounds—now arrow wounds. Who’s firing arrows at you anyway?”

“Just some brat the next city over.”

“Right, that fantastic, _mysterious_ place you go when you ditch us.”

“Speaking of brats,” Negaduck snaps, ignoring the biting comment, “where’s ours?”

“Gee, boss, you finally think she’s our kid? Just the other day I heard you say she wasn't associated with you in the slightest.”

Negaduck glares, a silent order for Launchpad to ignore the wording. “Where is she?”

“This new revelation comes at a bad time, actually. She blurred a few days ago.”

“Blurred?”

“Scrammed, ran off, split, made a dramatic exit. Take your pick, and _stop moving_ ,” Launchpad growls, tightly gripping Negaduck’s shoulder. “I am _sewing_ your _skin_. Do you realize how intense that is? Especially from a guy who failed home-ec in middle school?”

Clenching both of his fists, Negaduck hisses out, “I’m going to kill her. I knew it.”

“Don’t say things like that. I don’t want another social worker coming over here. You always leave me to clean up the bodies.”

“That ungrateful, _deceitful_ little— _ow_! What do you think you’re doing, Launchpad?”

“Uh, the best I can,” Launchpad snaps. “Let me wrap this up. I don’t think I sewed it too good.”

“Oh, boy.”

“You might want to try to...not move your left arm. At all.”

“I’m left-handed!”

“You said you were ambidextrous.”

“I _prefer_ my left hand.”

Launchpad huffs as he wraps Negaduck’s arm. “There. Done. You happy?”

“No, someone shot me with an arrow, and our daughter ran off.”

“You know, it’s starting to creep me out hearing you say things like that,” Launchpad says.

Negaduck slips his turtleneck back on and heads to his room for a new jacket while muttering to himself. Not wanting to make the effort of following him, Launchpad simply props himself up against the wall and waits. A few seconds later, Negaduck returns with his usual yellow jacket, this one untarnished. He jumps down to the bottom floor triumphantly.

“The Muddlefoots!” Negaduck exclaims, his voice ringing out through the living room. “The kid’s always hanging out with that other kid. _He’d_ probably know something. Uh, which one does she like, again? The one with the glasses?”

“Tank.”

 

Negaduck sprints out of the house.

“‘Thank you, Launchpad,’” Launchpad calls back, his tone mocking Negaduck’s. “‘What would I ever do without you, Launchpad?’”

Negaduck doesn’t hear it. He sprints over to the Muddlefoots and pounds on their door, though they answer it after the second time he hits the door.

Being loyal citizens of his St. Canard, they’re naturally happy to see him. Negaduck, less so; he’s here on important business.

Tank Muddlefoot has always been hard for Negaduck to understand—and based on the rants he’s heard, hard for his parents to understand, too. He’s way too nice for this St. Canard, like Gosalyn, like something from _Darkwing’s_ place.

Negaduck doesn’t like it. He’s never liked it, and he especially hates it now.

“You seen Gosalyn here?” Negaduck offhandedly asks Binkie, who simply shrugs the question off. So he approaches Tank. “Hey, kid, I know you’re friends with Gosalyn.”

Tanker looks up with wide eyes and adjusts his glasses. “Well, yes, sir.”

“Can we talk? Let’s go outside.”

“Um...” Tank glances back at his parents, who gesture for him to go. He follows Negaduck outside.

Negaduck walks out to the back patio and asks, “When’s the last time you saw Gosalyn?”

“Um...I think it was a, a few days ago.”

“Are you lying?” Negaduck snaps. “You’re stuttering an awful lot.”

“It’s just that we...” Tank’s face heats up, and he looks down as he murmurs, “Well, we never really talk, face-to-face.”

“Pfeh. Okay, so you saw her a few days ago. Where was it?”

“Here, sir,” Tank responds. “You know how we don’t have fences in our backyards because they, um...broke...Well, she came to the backyard, and we sat and talked for a few hours.”

“You talked. About what?”

“Gardening.”

“That it?”

Tank thinks back to the conversation they had.  “Oh, and some pie recipes we found in a book from the library.”

“You expect me to believe that two teenagers met up to talk about gardening and—” Negaduck cuts himself off and frowns. “No, that sounds entirely realistic for you two losers.”

“Yes, sir. I mean—” Tank fidgets nervously and lets out a little sigh. “Please—please don’t be angry with her, sir. She only wanted to make the house look nice.”

“I’m not mad about a stupid _garden_!” Negaduck flares up. “I don’t know if you knew this, though I suspect you might have, but your little _friend_ ran away on some pathetic vigilante justice scheme, and now she—!”

He freezes with a fist raised into the air. Tank flinches, then opens one eye to look up at him.

“Sir?”

A dangerous grin spreads across his face. “The Friendly Four. Of course. What else would I expect?”

Now he’s calm, too calm. He leans back and puts his hands together. He's no longer showing teeth, but the smile still remains.

“That band of idiots must have put her up to this,” Negaduck continues, now not even noticing that Tank is still there and growing more frightened by the second. “I can’t wait to see their reactions when they find out what will happen to their little golden child.”

Tank’s eyes go wide. “S-Sir, are you going to hurt her?”

“Get out of my sight.”

Tank doesn’t need any encouragement; he turns and sprints back into the house. Past his parents, up the stairs to his room. He slams the door closed and presses his beak to the window, which faces the road.

Negaduck is running across it.

Tank stumbles back and lurches towards his desk. Vertigo almost claims him. He fumblingly reaches for his phone and frantically types out the number. It takes three tries to get it right with his hands shaking as badly as they are. He presses the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” It’s Megavolt.

“Gosalyn’s in huge trouble,” Tank whispers, hurried. “Negaduck knows she left. He questioned me.”

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

“Yes! No! In that order! He started to suspect you four, though. I didn’t tell him anything, but he might be going to your hideout.”

"He doesn't know our  _real_ hideout," Megavolt says, soothing him. "He'll probably be at the decoy one...We can send Quacky with some of his 'toys', and the Liquidator will come to pick you up. Will you be okay?"

"If he's coming here, I...I think I'll be fine," Tank responds. He steels his nerves and nods, though Megavolt can't see it. "Yes, I will be. I'll go pack my bag."

 “I’m proud of you, kiddo,” and in his voice, it's evident that he's smiling.

“Bye,” Tank whispers, hanging up the call.

Proud; the Friendly Four and Gosalyn are the only ones that have ever been proud of him...

Tank hurries to his closet and grabs a bag to start packing for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tank + lynn usually hang with the friendly four at the hideout when their parents are being, as they say, assholes
> 
> we are halfway finished! we just have...more fight scenes...yay :/ (at least i'm getting practice)


	5. Chapter 5

Negaduck soars through the portal, skids across the ground, and pries a set of plastic teeth off of his leg. His chainsaw skitters across the floor

That stupid jester was waiting there for him, confirming the sneaking suspicion that Tank is somehow connected with the group as well. He must have contacted the Friendly Four after the meaning. Oh, he's going to get it! Once Negaduck is finished with his business here, of course.

Luckily, near their hideout, or whatever that building is to them, is one of the few portals Negaduck set up. In his St. Canard, it’s an abandoned pharmacy, but this one just happens to be closed at the moment. That must be how Gosalyn got here in the first place. Well, the Negaverse Gosalyn.

This gives Negaduck pause as he goes to pick up his chainsaw. Of course, there  _ are _ two Gosalyns.  _ And _ two annoying masked vigilantes.

Come to think of it, Negaduck realizes he might have been wrong about them.

The door to the building opens, and Negaduck darts behind a counter. He flinches as his sewn up arm causes him pain in his movements. When he gets back, he’ll have a talk with Launchpad about his sewing skills.

The masked figure who enters the building is the  _ exact _ person Negaduck was here for. Calming his anger, he forces himself to sit there and wait, watching to see what she does next.

The Gosling looks frightened; that’s good. Her gaze sweeps across the room as she takes in the details.

The portal is in the back, where hardly anyone goes, mostly because they’re too afraid to, thanks to Negaduck’s various threats and weapons. The Gosling goes right up to it as if she knows that’s what she’s going to find, and after a few seconds of snooping, she turns to head out of the building.

Negaduck scoops up his chainsaw and walks over to the door.

“Gosalyn,” he says.

The Gosling freezes.

"You know, I  _just_ happened to remember the time I fought a younger hero who called herself the Quiverwing Quack. Darkwing's kid, actually." Negaduck crosses his arms. "Which means that  _you_ shouldn't be here...Oh, and I talked to your loser friends, the Friendly Four."

 

Taking a step back, she asks fearfully, “Did you hurt them?”

“Why don't you just go back home and find out for yourself?"

She slides her gaze back at the portal, still activated; she’s genuinely considering it. After all, the well-being of her precious friends is at stake.

Then she remembers who runs the Negaverse.

She stands up a little straighter as she says, “My friends are depending on me. I came here to stop you, and..." She clenches her fists and recovers from her nervousness. "And I’m not going back until I do.”

The way she says “friends” disgusts him, like they’re some sort of replacement for him. He  _hates_ her spirit, how she goes behind his back to hang out with  _his_ enemies. And of course, they're all such fans of his disgusting look-alike.

Gritting his teeth, Negaduck raises his chainsaw above his head. "So be it!"

*

Honker carefully dips his french fry into his ketchup. Not looking up at Gosalyn, he explains in his usual quiet manner, “I couldn’t find any supernatural occurrences from the, um, from that bakery. And weird green lights isn’t so, um,  _ weird _ here.”

“They weren’t lights. It was this...this portal...thingy.”

Honker raises an eyebrow. “Gosalyn...I can’t look up ‘portal thingy’ online.”

Huffing, Gosalyn takes another bite of her burger and chews it angrily. She glances out the window of the fast food place and views the streets, with a few people walking on it. It’s midday on a Thursday, meaning St. Canard’s usual traffic has stagnated. That’s one thing Gosalyn likes about summer break.

“I do have an idea, though.”

Gosalyn sits up. “What is it?”

“Tell your dad,” Honker says simply before putting the fry in his mouth.

“Do you really think Dad would believe that he was sucked into a weird portal thingy at a bakery?” Gosalyn asks. “Besides,” she says, her voice more hushed this time to prevent eavesdroppers, “I still haven’t told him about the Gallant Gosling yet. If he finds out, he’ll freak!”

“Gosalyn, um, I’m going to be  _ very _ honest here. I don’t think that’s the real reason.”

Gosalyn’s beak tightens with an irritating frown. It’s true that she likes solving mysteries before her father can, especially something as interesting as a new hero.

Finally, she concedes and sinks down into her booth. “I guess I have to tell him anyway. I’ll prob’ly do it tonight.”

“Actually, um, my, my mom might try to come over again. You should try to tell him sooner in case I can’t, uh, convince her not to.”

But now, Gosalyn isn’t even looking at him. She peers out the window and watches as the Gallant Gosling sprints through the street.

Must be chasing a crime...?

Then, a few seconds later, Negaduck comes by, wielding his usual chainsaw. Gosalyn jumps out of her seat.

“I gotta go, Honk.”

She crams the rest of her burger into her mouth, makes some gibberish comment that he assumes to be either an apology for leaving or an invitation to the rest of her fries (which he probably will take up, regardless), and leaves the building.

After a few seconds hidden behind an alleyway, the Quiverwing Quack emerges upon the streets and sprints in the direction she saw the other hero go. With their fast pace, they’re long gone by now, but Quiverwing doesn’t have another lead to follow. So she hopes she can catch up with them.

She’s not sure how Negaduck came back, nor why, but she has an idea the Gosling knows. The only way they’ll be able to talk is if he’s not actively trying to kill her, though.

And where does he get all those chainsaws from, anyway?

In a halfway-distracted state, thinking of the implications of this reappearance and how she is to handle it, Quiverwing narrowly dodges civilians as she runs down the streets. Then the crowds begin to thin out.

Then the only people Quiverwing encounters are people running the opposite direction and screaming.

Quiverwing knows this means she’s on the right track, so she picks up her pace until she finds Negaduck at the end of the sidewalk.

Grinning, Quiverwing fires an arrow, only for him to turn a corner last minute.

Quiverwing sprints after him and finds that he’s close to the Gosling.

A chainsaw in the hands of anyone is dangerous, but more so in Negaduck’s. Still, Quiverwing doesn’t flinch. On an instinct, she grabs Negaduck’s cape, twists it up, and pulls.

(She’s  _ so _ glad she ditched the cape in her costume.)

Negaduck stumbles back and swings his chainsaw around. Quiverwing leaps out of its line of fire, and it whirls around before getting embedded into the wall. He rights himself and glares at her.

“This doesn’t  _ concern _ you,” he snaps, finally yanking the chainsaw from the wall.

He takes a wild swing in her direction, which she dodges easily, but it puts her off balance. Hitting the wall, she winces as her quiver of arrows burrows into her back, then pushes herself off and runs off.

The Gosling cries out as Negaduck returns to chasing her.

After taking a quick stock of her surroundings, Quiverwing rushes down an alleyway. As long as they don’t start making a bunch of random turns, she’ll be able to cut off the chase in front of it.

After running down a few alleyways, she finally spots the Gosling again and tugs her off the streets. Quiverwing pinches her beak shut and pulls her behind a dumpster, where they hide as footsteps go past them.

“He’s going to find us,” is the first thing the Gosling whispers when Quiverwing lets go.

“I have a place where we can go. Come on.”

They run down the alleyway and out into the streets again.

After a few seconds, just when they think they might be safe, they hear the sound of Negaduck revving his chainsaw behind them. Quiverwing glances back, then grips the Gosling's wrist and propels her forward.

Luckily, they don't run into any civilians; anyone on the streets sees the chase going on and immediately runs out of the way.

Quiverwing hears the water a few seconds before she sees it: the river. Their ticket to safety.

But Negaduck is still at their heels.

“Gosalyn, you get back here  _ right _ now!” he screams.

The Gosling gasps out; meanwhile, alarm bells are going off in the back of Quiverwing’s mind. Why was  _ that _ the name on his beak? How does he know her?

But she can’t afford the time to panic over this detail right now. She skids at the edge, nearly toppling into the river.

“Hold your breath!” Quiverwing shouts.

She scoops up the Gosling and tosses her into the water. Quiverwing glances back for a mere second before jumping in herself.

Negaduck skids to a stop and peers into the dark waters of the river. Nothing. If they're alive in there, they'll have to get out eventually. If not, problem solved.


End file.
